Live Free or Die Trying
by Gilly B
Summary: He tumbled down in front of the door he was searching so hard for. Well trimmed shrubbery and nice, neat, little windows abounded on the small manor, but the effect was ruined by the sound of shouting and the smell of burnt food. Just the place he was looking for. "Bloody hell! Can I help you?" "Yes, Mr. Kirkland, I think you can."
1. Chapter 1

:D Hey~! Alright so... My friend Anni wanted me to start a Hetalia and Harry Potter crossover and here it is! I'm posting this today for her birthday! So, HAPPY DAY OF BIRTH~! Okay, anyway... I really like this so far and I can't wait to see what happens... Haha!

Disclaimer: I don't own either of these. Just sayin.

WARNINGS: Dumbles-bashing, language, there'll probably yaoi later on but I don't have pairings planned out *shrugs*, and violence.

* * *

It was so sudden, the pain. The intense searing, the feeling of being burned alive licking against his skin. And now he was running. Out of breath and panting, he would reach his destination. He had to. If he didn't, then the world itself might collapse under _his_ tyranny. No one had really seen it coming. So many secrets had been kept, from the entire nation. From the nation himself... He had to get there! He would make it! The pain was intensifying. The spell was growing in strength instead of diminishing. His legs felt as if they were melting. On fire.

Dumbledore. It was all Dumbledore. He was planning this all along. The bastard would pay. If they were to survive this new terror, they would need more help. Perhaps... Perhaps if the nation himself knew what was happening, he'd be able to do something. He'd be able to stop it. It was a long shot. But then again, him getting there at all was a long shot.

It was never Voldemort. That psychopath was just a pawn, as was everyone else. Oh yes, Dumbledore had created the maniac that was Voldemort himself. All through his schooling, Tom Riddle had subtly been poisoned. Day by day and year by year, the headmaster had twisted the young mind to create his own personal monster. All for the greater good of course. It was a brilliant plan, because if there was something about Dumbledore that was still true, it was that he was brilliant. He formed his enemy and knew him well, played the brat like a fiddle. Expected his every move and waited to be crowned hero at Riddle's defeat. What he _hadn't_ seen was poor little Harry Potter. Potter had ruined his plans, momentarily. But then he decided to grasp the unsuspecting boy into his clutches as well. Harry Potter would do all his dirty work. He would control the world through his manipulations and become the most powerful of all the wizards with none the wiser.

All of them had been dazzled when he rose from the grave he had never entered. It had been necessary, he said. They wouldn't have won if he had been there, he said. It was for the Greater Good, he said. But others could see it more clearly. The deception. Fudge was smarter on that front than most thought. But with a few words and well placed spells, he seemed the fool to those loyal to Dumbledore. Scrimgeour had been more careful, but was toppled still. Now, here he was, a former Order of the Phoenix member, and current Minister of Magic. Running for his life and the lives of everyone at stake.

So, Kingsley Shaklebolt ran for all that he could. He tumbled down in front of the door he was searching so hard for. Well trimmed shrubbery and nice, neat, little windows abounded on the small manor, but the effect was ruined by the sound of shouting and the smell of burnt food. Just the place he was looking for.

Kingsley tried as hard as he could to ram his body against the door, hoping to rouse the attention of those inside. He dearly hoped it worked. If he couldn't tell the message in time... The burning sensation grew. His lungs were heaving and his brow was drowned in sweat.

The shouting stopped and Kingsley weakly thumped his fist against the door. He thanked Merlin as he heard footsteps approaching. His world turned as the door opened and his slack body fell through the threshold.

"Bloody hell! Can I help you?"

"Yes, Mr. Kirkland, I think you can."

* * *

There's the beginning! :D

Tell me what you guys think!

Gilly B.


	2. Chapter 2

Whew~ Soooo much updated. Anyway...

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Harry Potter blah, blah, blah

WARNINGS: Cursing, more Dumbles-bashing, implied character death.

* * *

"That bastard." Arthur growled as Kingsley nodded solemnly from his position on Arthur's couch. He was losing time, any minute now could be his last. The spell had already spread from his legs up to torso and was slowly constricting his breathing.

Arthur clutched at his chest. There were multiple scars there, but a few of them belonged to Voldemort, or as he now found out, Dumbledore. All those people killed, he hadn't had any warning the second and more intense time. He had lost touch with his magical side after Voldemort's first defeat, becoming to wrapped up in his non-magical affairs. His fist clenched. But now he could do something about it. He'd be able to fight for his people...

"What are we going to do..." Arthur murmured as he folded his fingers under his chin.

"That..." Kingsley wheezed, "will be... up to you... I'm afraid..." A pained cough escaped his lips as the fire reached his lungs. He was dying.

Arthur glanced up quickly with a sorrowful expression. "I can't stop it. The only thing I can do is dull the pain, and even then only a little." Arthur stood and tipped more of the potion laced tea into Kingley's mouth. Kingsley smiled ruefully and gave a thankful nodd.

"I... know. What... do you... have in... mind?" The pain was dissipating, but he could still feel the flames curling around his insides and building underneath his skin.

"I'll have to go undercover. Thankfully the old coot was reinstated as Headmaster instead of given a position in the government like he wanted. There are no worries about him taking over, _yet._ But he'll be wanting to string up his favorite puppet again, what with the previous seventh years re-taking their classes. He can't be suspicious. It will have to look like I'm a supporter of his cause. Yes. It might take time to dig up and renew my credentials, but I need to get as close as I can..."

"I'll have to ask for a position as a professor..."

* * *

"Where the fuck could he have gone?" America was a little pissed. His big bother had just seemed to have disappeared, and that wasn't at all good for a nation. He was pacing back and forth in front of the other nations as news had reached their meeting that England had left without a word.

"It is strange, no? That 'e left without warning." France mused from his seat in the meeting room. They were all a little frazzled at England's disappearance. It wasn't every day that a nation went missing.

"Maybe he is dead, da? That would be a shame." Russia piped up, causing America to give him a death glare and the finger.

"But, Al... Didn't this happen before?" A voice whispered to the room.

"Yeah," America replied without thinking. "With that Voldie guy. Some major dark wizard or something. He got injured and..." His face contorted into a guilty frown. "I didn't pay much attention before 'cause he never made it to _my_ magical community. Maybe I should have done something..."

"You cannot be the hero _all_ the time, aru." China threw a stern look America's way.

America dipped his head. "I know."

The doors to the conference room burst open as Scotland blasted his way in. "He's at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts! What's he doing there?" America yelled as watched the Scotsman approach. There was a dark look on Scotland's face and he wanted to know what put it there.

"Dumbledore betrayed him. Dumbledore betrayed his entire nation."

The room was in uproar. How could one of the most renowned and honored wizards in the magical realm have betrayed England?

"What do you mean? What the hell is going on?" America managed to shout above the ruckus of the room at large. The group fell silent in anticipation of the answer.

"He was fucking behind it all. Tha genocide and tha anti-muggle sentiments. He, fucking, _created_, Voldemort, _himself_."

Germany looked ill at the mention of genocide as everyone in the room shared looks of disgust and surprise.

"Ve, But that doesn't explain why he's-a at Hogwarts!" Northern Italy protested.

Scotland slammed his hand onto the conference table. "Tha idjiot's goin' undercover."

"Quoi! By 'imself? 'e is crazy! If Dumblydore was indeed behind it all, that makes 'im a very dangerous man!" France stood in protest.

"We have to go after him! We'll have to go undercover too!" America proposed loudly.

"No," Scotland cut him off. "That'll blow his cover. We'll have to think a somethin' else."

"Like what, aru?"

"I have an idea..."

* * *

"Mr. Kirkland..." It was eerie, speaking with the Headmaster as his painting was also mounted behind his head. The painting was cast immobile in the light of Dumbledore's reinstatement, but it was still rather creepy. "Mr. Kirkland?"

"Oh, yes. Terribly sorry, I was dazed for a minute there. You were saying?" The headmaster frowned almost imperceptibly before smiling kindly.

"Yes, the mind does like to wander, doesn't it? I was asking as to why you wished to teach at Hogwarts, Mr. Kirkland."

"Ah. Well, I've always wanted to teach and I thought now would be a good time, what with the war finally over. Hogwarts is a grand school." England shifted in the chair in front of the headmaster's desk as he felt the probing of Dumbledore's Legilimency. England hid a smile. The headmaster would have to try harder if he wanted to get into a nation's mind, they were all natural Occlumens. It was a self defense thing to keep their secrets... secret.

"Oh? And why a History of Magic?" Arthur could tell Dumbledore was unsettled by the wall he had put up, making sure he couldn't delve into his mind.

England smiled. "It's one of my _favorite_ subjects."

* * *

Woah, fast paced chapter is fast. Especially the meeting scene. Gah. I don't usually write like that... Anyway...

Whoo! New chapter! Thanks for all the reviews guys! So happy~

Gilly B.


	3. Chapter 3

Eugh. I'm not to happy with the beginning of this chapter, but... Oh, well! Blergh. I'm warning you guys now, kay? Updates are probably going to slow. School actually starts _this week_. Feh. I may or may not have time to write lots of this. Especially with how much of this plot I actually have planned out. Which isn't much.

Disclaimer: I don't own blah, blah, blah...

WARNINGS: None this chapter...? Oh! Hints of yaoi.

* * *

There were whisperings, which was not unusual for the first grand feast of the year, and the subject matter even less so. The new professors at Hogwarts. Plus the Savior of the Wizarding World, Mister Harry Potter himself, was casually sitting at the Gryffindor table, trying his best not to lose it.

_Poor boy_, Arthur thought to himself. _He must be so dazed right now. He doesn't have a mortal enemy at his back, trying to kill him at every turn. I know the feeling..._ Arthur took to sipping at his tea cup. The feast hadn't started yet and the food hadn't arrived but Arthur had his way of charming the house elves. _Peace can be a hard thing to get used to after years of war. _Arthur sighed as the whisperings and murmurings continued on. _He'll be more susceptible to manipulation now that he's lost his purpose._ Arthur sneered into his cup at those words. _Lost his purpose, as if he's merely a plaything. Things will definitely have to change... Especially with a few of the professors still missing!_

* * *

Things were definitely not going the way Albus Dumbledore wanted them too. Not. At. All. There had been too many deaths! Far too many. His hold and power were starting to dissolve. How could he take over when all of his supporters were dead?! Dumbledore slammed a fist against his desk. He had wasted far too much time whittling away and being as inconspicuous as he could be. And yet they still caught on. Fudge. Scrimgeour. The old man sneered. Even Kingsley.

The headmaster continued to pace his office as he thought over what needed to be done. Kingsley's death had yet to be reported, so he had ample time to find a minion he could use to control the government. New professors was a pressing concern. Accentuating yet again his lack of live supporters. Lupin was dead and so was his wife*. Both could have been excellent to take positions. If he had been desperate enough, he might have asked Molly Weasley, she had a good head on her shoulders, but after the death of one their sons, the Weasley's had broken from his ranks. Pity.

Snape was dead, Lupin was dead, Tonks was dead, Weasley was out of the question, Kingsley was terminated. He had positions to fill for Merlin's sake! Anyone he could have considered for a position that was held under his thumb, was unavailable. It was frustrating. Snape was dead, so he needed someone to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Binns had finally moved on so he needed someone to teach History of Magic. Then his previous teacher for Muggle Studies had been slaughtered, so he needed someone for that... Slughorn had quit, the coward, and Hagrid had run off to France*! Leaving him short one Potion's master and Care of Magical Creatures professor. Things were definitely not going the way he planned.

* * *

"So it's decided then?" Scotland glanced around at the gathered nations. America was at the front with Russia and Canada behind him. The other various nations were clustered behind them, everyone was clad in dark cloaks and knee-high black dragon skin boots, waiting.

"Hell yeah! This is gonna be _so_ frickin awesome!" America excitedly punched the air.

"Please to be more serious, Amerika? This is a dangerous mission, da?" Russia clapped a hand on America's shoulder to calm him down.

"I'm, like, totally serious, dude! What's your problem?" America turned to glare at the other nation. Before a fight broke out between the two, Scotland turned to France.

"You'll be the only one goin' undercover, aye? Keep on yer toes." Scotland warned as the other nodded his head solemnly. France gave a jaunty wave before disappearing with a loud crack. Russia and few of the other nations* flinched.

"It is still surprising that some of you have kept this sorcery a secret. It makes me wonder of your intentions." Russia turned a glare at America as he spoke.

"Dude! Like I'd tell someone like you! Ever since Salem* I've kept my nation's witchcraft on the down-low. Same with Mattie*." America shoved a thumb in Canada's direction. "And everyone already knew about England's magic, so what's the deal, yo?"

Russia crossed his arms and scowled. "I am merely upset that secrets would be kept among allies, da?"

America pulled his fingers into fists and planted them on his hips. "Yeah, like you don't have your own secrets. Don't think I never found out about your own type of magic*! Just because it's different from ours..."

Russia's eyes narrowed and he growled, "Excuse me?"

America smirked. "I had spies* everywhere, bub. Of course I'd find out you had magic! You think I'm stupid?"

"Da. I think you are very stupid." Russia's expression darkened as he gave America a deadly smile.

"Say that again. I _dare_ you." Both nations were leaning in close, just about ready to smash each other's faces in.

"Calm down ye idjiots! We need this plan to go off without a hitch!" Scotland pushed the rival nations away from each other, huffing in frustration as he did so.

"Yes, I've been wondering. I do not see how this will work, aru." China looked to Scotland in question, fiddling with the black fabric draped around his head.

Scotland winked*. "Don't you worry, my little panda bear! Hogwarts is in _my_ land, I know all it's ins and outs."

China blushed before nodding fading back into the crowd.

America, bouncing back from his argument with Russia, yelled in excitement. "Let's get this show on the road!"

* * *

"Hey Mr. Sweden?" Finland was nervously shifting in his seat in their compartment on the train.

"Ja?" The stoic Swede looked to the tiny Finn, silently willing the other to calm down.

"Do you really think it's okay? Us being here and all?" Finland took a glance around the compartment, trying to take it all in.

"Ja." was the simple reply. Sweden went back to pretending to read the newspaper while watching the cute little Finn fidget. Sweden was actually worried about the man, but didn't want to do anything to calm him least his scary features scare the other away.

"But Norge's so much better at this stuff than we are! I don't think I'm cut out for this kind of thing, Mr. Sweden!" Finland was starting to panic.

Sweden dropped his newspaper and slowly made his way to the seats on the other side of the compartment, sitting down beside the worried Finn. Sweden placed his hand on Finland's head and tried to pat it as tenderly as he could.

"You'll do fine."

Finland melted a bit as the large man beside him tried to comfort him. It was endearing in a way. Finland smiled softly and leaned into the touch as the train rattled on...

* * *

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH RESEACH I DID FOR THIS. :U I knew most of it already, but I had to double check exact dates and stuff!

Notes:

1 - A reminder that Lupin married Tonks and both were killed during the Battle of Hogwarts

2 - He ran off with his now-lover Madame Maxime

3 - Not all the nations gathered were aware of their magical communities if they had one.

4 - Salem as in the Salem witch trials.

5 - Seeing as the witch trials ahd happened so close to his own home, it's assumed that Canada would have hidden his own magical community. Now, neither country is referring to the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy (effective starting in 1692). America is more insinuating that he hid his magical people, not from muggles, but from other nations, excepting those that already knew.

6 - Russia, in my headcannon, does not have an official Ministry of Magic or any of the like, thus keeping him in the dark about other countries with running Magical governments. But he does have his own type of magic weilders, enabling him to use said magic in his own way.

7 - America and his espianoge~ America decided to be a prick and mention the Cold War again. This is placed, in fact, in 1998. One year after the defeat of Voldemort and seven years after the official end of the Cold War.

8 - Did I include hints of my crack!pairing Scotchu? Why, yes, yes I did.

I think those are all the notes... This chapter will probably be the one with the most, so not too many annoying asterics interrupting your story~ :D

Are you dying to find out what Finland and Sweden are doing? Guess. Go on, guess. xD How about the other nations? And Francey-pants? IT SHALL REMAIN A MYSTERY UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE~ MWAHAHA~!

Peace out~

Gilly B.


	4. Chapter 4

*dies* I HAD A PAPERCUT ON MY FINGER WHILE I TYPED THIS. T^T Buuuuuhhh...

Anyway! Sorry for the long wait you guys! School and stuff and yadda yadda yadda~ But this baby is twice as long as usual, so... Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I am a writer, who doesn't own anything~ I just sit at home, and lie around~

WARNINGS: Umm, cursing, Dumbles bashing, mix of country and human names.

* * *

"Hello, Mister Aberforth. We would like to have a few words with you, aru."

"Yeah? And who are you?" The barkeep looked to the group of people crowded around in suspicion. There were eight figures in total, each shrouded in black. If this was another pansy-ass group of wannabe Death Eaters...

"We must not tell secrets, da? Please to be not asking again." Aberforth looked to the tallest of the group and sneered. They were keeping secrets, huh? Maybe he should just throw them out.

"Then what do you want?" Aberforth set down the cup he had been attempting to clean with a dirty rag.

"An entrance to Hogwarts." There was silence.

"You're mad." Aberforth leaned forward, suspicion in his eyes but curiosity as well. "Why?"

One of the figures stepped forward and the old barkeep could see their bright smile even through the shadow of the hood. "You've never trusted your brother, right?" Both the stranger's and Aberforth's eyes flickered to the painting of girl on the wall. "Well, dude, what if we tell you that you've had good reason too?"

Aberforth's expression soured before backing up and blocking the portrait of his sister that they all knew led to Hogwarts. "What dya mean by that? Ya think ya can just waltz in here and demand entrance? What are ya? Cheap Death Eater imitations?"

Another figure growled and stepped forward. "Listen here ya little shit! I'll not have you callin us those vile things! After what that man did tah _my_ lands and _my _wee baby brother? No. So I suggest yeh back off!" In his anger the man's hood fell down to reveal angry green eyes, eyebrows like large caterpillars, and short hair a shocking red.

Another figure approached the red-head, pulling off his own hood and placing a calming hand on his shoulder. The other man, or was it a woman?, had long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. His deep brown eyes held flecks of gold that shone in the dim lighting. "Calm yourself."

Aberforth decided not to press. They weren't remnants of some Voldemort loving cult and they weren't working for his asinine brother. There was only one matter that concerned him. "The students? Are ya gonna hurt them?"

"_Nein_," one of the figures hissed, "The Kinder vill not be harmed."

Aberforth was still a bit skeptical. "That still doesn't explain why yer askin about gettin' in."

"Dumbledore is planning something that does not sit well with us. We wish to stop it, aru."

"Very well." Aberforth stepped aside and motioned for his dear little sister to open the doorway. "Ya know the room is unusable, aye? Burnt by fiendfire, yeh can only pass through."

"Let us worry of such things, da?" The tallest of the figures stepped forward and chuckled under his breath in a sinister manner. Aberforth shivered before holding open the portrait, gesturing for the group to hop into the tunnel. "Just tryin' tah warn ya..."

"Thanks dude!" Aberforth watched the last of the group head off, wondering what in the world those strangers were planning.

* * *

The doors to the great hall began to open with a creak. Everyone's attention turned to the four men behind it. Arthur lifted a large brow at the Nordic countries. _What the bloody hell are all of them doing here?_ Finland, Sweden, Norway, and Iceland. The only one missing was Denmark. But then again, he was likely off gallivanting somewhere with that giant axe of his. Arthur looked over at Albus who was smiling and waving the countries up to the staff table. _Merlin, that idiot didn't _actually _ask more nations to teach did he?_ Arthur again hid a smirk behind his teacup. The Nordics were sensible and would surely help Arthur out, not that he needed it. He was the bloody United Kingdom and could take care of any problem, but help was always appreciated from time to time. _His audacity will be his downfall_. Arthur turned back to the men nervously walking toward the table, faux curiosity plastered on his face. It was then that Arthur realized something. There were four men but five empty chairs. They were still a professor short...

Finland gave England a questioning look but turned his head when said country shook his head slightly. Sweden seemed content to alternate between glaring out at the students and staring at Finland. Norway and Iceland were unfazed by anything and took their seats with blank expressions. They continued to wait, the last empty chair seeming to mock them.

Arthur's eyes widened a fraction when the great hall doors slammed open with dramatic flair. There were several people Arthur knew that would make such an entrance and none of them were good for his health. He almost dropped his tea when he heard the "Ohonhonhon~" laughter that could only come from one country. Bloody. Fucking. France. A sneer crossed his face as the obnoxious Frenchman made his way into the room and sauntered up to the staff table, blowing kisses and winking to all the _underage_ students. It made Arthur sick. He was tempted, oh so very tempted, to throw his teacup at the frog's face and see what happened. But that would be a waste of perfectly good tea. Arthur clutched at his teacup to resist the urge to strangle something when he realized where the last empty chair was. Right. Beside. Him. Arthur's teacup nearly shattered when France took his seat and leaned over toward the Brit. Arthur's face flushed an angry red when France put his lips up to England's ear. What he whispered, however, evaporated the majority of his anger. "We are 'ere to 'elp, mon ami." Arthur shoved the other man away, but gave a curt nod.

Dumbledore stood when the last of his staff made it to the table, all whisperings that were abounding across the room through the students stopped.

"It is with great pleasure that I welcome you all again to another year at Hogwarts. Now, with the damages still being repaired throughout the school, I caution you all to be careful and look out for one another. For all of you who may not have known, we are welcoming back previous seventh year students to fill in the gaps of their sadly neglected education." Albus paused to let the students soak in the information before turning to the new professors sitting at the table.

"Now, we have a great many new teachers this year and I hope you all will do your best to make them feel welcome. We have Mister Arthur Kirkland teaching a History of Magic." Arthur stood and took a bow, smiling sardonically at the students giving him a polite clap. "Mister Lukas Bondevik teaching Care of Magical Creatures." Norway simply stood and accepted the slight applause and sat back down, face still devoid of emotion. "Mister Emil Steilsson teaching Muggle Studies." Iceland followed his brother's example. "Mister Tino Väinämöinen and Mister Berwald Oxenstierna will be co-teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts." Both Finland and Sweden stood, Finland with a smile and a happy wave and Berwald with a raise of his hand, face still set in an intense glare. "And last but certainly not least, Mister Francis Bonnefoy, formerly from the prestigious Beauxbatons Academy, will be teaching Potions." France stood with a flirty wave and blew another kiss to the student body.

"A few more announcements," Dumbledore quieted the students again. "As a former student to Hogwarts who had been in Slytherin himself, Professor Kirkland has offered to be their new head of house." Arthur raised a hand in acknowledgment as the Slytherins gave obligatory cheers. "Also, Professor Oxenstierna will be our new Game Keeper this year." There was a smattering of frightful clapping as Sweden glared.

"Now without further nonsense and ado! Eat up!" The headmaster waved his hands and dinner was served. He sat back down with a smile upon his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. They would all be under his control soon. He would rule the magic world without mercy. _All in the name of the greater good of course_.

* * *

Harry was very close to having a mental breakdown in the middle of the great hall. What was he to do now? He had no enemy to defeat. He had no secret mission that was his job to carry out. All was peaceful. That was what he wanted, right? So then, why did he feel so empty? He held his head in his hands as he tried to work through the feelings that had been haunting him all summer. They just wouldn't go away. There was also Dumbledore's mysterious return sneaking in through his thoughts. Dumbledore had _lied_. Lied in an almost unforgivable way. Why had he made everyone believe he was dead? What was there to really gain from that? It only served to devastate and frustrate all his supporters and give a confidence boost to his enemies. He was not so eager to trust the old man anymore.

Harry looked up to tired smiling eyes when he felt a dainty hand on his shoulder. He tried to smile reassuringly back at Hermione but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "One of our new professors looks really young, did you notice?"

"No." Harry answered honestly before looking up at the staff table to meet acid green eyes. His own eyes widened a bit before the professor turned his gaze away. The man had to be in his early twenties from the look of him. He wore plain muggle attire, a crisp white shirt with a green sweater vest and matching tie. Over that he wore a thick black hooded cloak and knee high dragon skin boots. An interesting character indeed. "You're right though, he does seem rather young."

"Of course I'm right, Harry. I'm always right." The tone Hermione stated this in and the responding snort from Ron brought a genuine smile to his lips as his best friends began to bicker like old times. He lost himself in the antics of his friends before the door to the great hall creaked open.

"More professors?" Hermione whispered as they watched the men walk past the curious crowd of students. These men looked young to be filling in the role of professor. The one in the front of the group was short, about the same size as a fourth year. He looked very nervous but smiled genuinely. He had long, pale blonde hair that almost covered half his face that was topped by a white barrette. His eyes were a pale blue that looked close to purple. He wore a soft white parka that covered part of his light blue long sleeve shirt. He had light brown militaristic boots that his matching pants were tucked into. The second man had a frightening look on his face with sharp crystal blue eyes behind square spectacles. He had on a deep blue suit and yellow tie underneath a light blue cloak that clasped at his shoulder. This man was much, much taller than the first.

The next two men were less intimidating than the second but also less welcoming than the first. Neither man held a notable expression. The taller of the two had a little blue cap and a small white cross pin in his soft blonde hair coupled with a strange curl on the side of his head. He had deep blue eyes that stared blankly ahead. The man had what looked like a blue sailor suit peeking from underneath a steel gray cloak. The second man had shocking almost white hair to match his white knee-high boots. He had on a brown suit with white shirt and white ribbon tie. Over that he wore a light brown cloak with furry collar. His most shocking features were his light purple eyes and... the puffin he carried? Harry watched them walk up to the staff table and take their seats.

There was only one empty chair left.

"They're all rather pale." Harry turned an incredulous look to Hermione at her comment. "What?! They do!" Hermione blushed as she realized she had accidentally spoken out loud.

"She's got a point, mate. They all look like they've never seen the sun." Ron stood up for his girlfriend.

Neville smirked from his place across the table. "Maybe they're all vampires."

Harry chuckled at his friend's joke. Since the end of the war, Neville had gained confidence and he was much wittier than most had given him credit for.

Moments later the doors banged open again and in stepped the most _french_ person to walk the halls of Hogwarts. "What a ponce." He heard Ron mutter. The man had long blonde wavy hair that reached his shoulders. He had a smart black suit with an open blue silk shirt underneath to match his light blue eyes. He had the beginnings of a beard on his chin and was currently blowing kisses with his white gloved hands. It was when this newest professor took his seat that Dumbledore stood and began his speech. One by one he called the teachers' names.

"Mister Arthur Kirkland teaching a History of Magic." As the first green-eyed man stood the Golden trio scrutinized him.

"Looks like the no-nonsense type." Ron groused.

"We'll probably learn more in a week than we did with Binns for years, though." Harry countered.

Hermione gushed at the chance to learn more as the boys rolled their eyes.

"Mister Lukas Bondevik teaching Care of Magical Creatures."

"No one'll ever top Hagrid." Ron looked the emotionless man up and down.

"Hagrid's happier now, though. And never judge a book by it's cover, Ron." Hermione said with a sniff, trying to defend the new professor.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Hermione."

"It's strange."

"What?" Hermione turned toward Harry.

"His name. Sounds Foreign."

"You're right!" Hermione blinked. "I think it might be Norwegian."

"Mister Emil Steilsson teaching Muggle Studies."

"Another foreign guy, great." Ron grumpily crossed his arms. When were they going to eat already?!

"He looks even younger than the rest. Odd." Hermione examined everyone seated at the staff table, all the new professors seemed a bit too young... and they were all strangely blonde.

"Mister Tino Väinämöinen and Mister Berwald Oxenstierna will be co-teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Woah. Are those names even pronounceable? Vain.. Vaina..." Ron tapered off attempting to actually say their names and failing miserably.

"Two teachers for DADA? That's new." Hermione mumbled.

"Probably to help break the curse." Harry offered. Looking to the intimidating man and his smiling companion. What a strange pair to be teaching such a dangerous subject.

"Hmm, the curse, yes."

"Mister Francis Bonnefoy, formerly from the prestigious Beauxbatons Academy, will be teaching Potions."

"Knew I didn't like the ponce." Ron glared up at the table and the waving Frenchman.

"Looks like you're not the only one." Harry pointed up to the deadly glare Professor Kirkland was aiming Professor Bonnefoy's way.

"Honestly, you two! There's nothing wrong with fancying the opposite sex!" Harry and Ron turned raised eyebrows in Hermione's direction.

"Anything you'd like to tell us, Mione?" Harry smirked a bit before Hermione smacked his shoulder.

"Boys!" Hermione threw her hands in the air. They were then distracted by the appearance of food. The feast had begun and so had a rather interesting year at Hogwarts.

The three returning seventh years had no idea that this would be their most memorable year yet...

* * *

I KNEW THERE WAS PLOT SOMEWHERE IN THERE. :D You can thank Anni for making me write this whole story in the first place and then helping me with all my plot holes(Though there are probably lots still in there...).

Anyway... Yay! We meet the rest of the professors~ Oh, for clarification... Yes, Norway and Iceland were also on the train with Sweden and Finland... Just in a different car. Make sense? Good. Can anyone tell me why I chose each character for each position? I _do_ have specific reasons~! I'll give you a cookie if you can!

Even though it was kind of serious, this chapter made me giggle a lot~ *pats Ron* It's okay, Ron. I'm pretty sure only Finnish people can pronounce Tino's last name...

Alrighty! I probably had planned to say more but I can't remember what it was! So! Night night you guys~

With love,

Gilly B.


	5. Chapter 5

D: This was totally supposed to go up yesterday, but I was covered in dirt and had a History paper due. Life, man. Just life. Anyway... This is a little shorter than usual... but. Hey! At least I think I have a schedule up for this. Every other Sunday! Whoo! On the other Sunday's I'm posting LMR sooo... But, ah! STORY TIME!

Disclaimer: No.

WARNINGS: Harsh language, hinted pairings (I dare you to guess)

* * *

"Day-_um_!" America murmured as the group of nations found themselves in what used to be the Room of Requirement. The room was small in size at the moment, much of its expanding magic having been burnt away by the fire. The walls were lacerated with scorch marks and what wasn't burnt was a soft gray from the resulting ashes. The floor itself was covered in heaps of them. What was left of the magic of the room could only produce entryways and windows. The moderate windows were open, allowing a soft breeze to swirl and entice the ashes about the floor into a dance. The light filtering in cast the room into a depressing gray glow.

"I agree with America-san." Japan stated as he sent an impassive look about the room.

"Oh! Hey, Japan! I totally forgot you were here! Hahaha!"

"Your brain very small, da? It can not remember many thing." Russia stepped forward and removed his hood, chuckling maliciously while patting America on the shoulder.

"Woah! Hands off the merchandise, brosef!" America slapped away the hand and glared at the Russian now beside him.

"Oh yes," Russia's grin turned down into a sneer, "because dear Amerika made of materialistic values, he has to sell body to keep up with people's wasteful consumption, da?"

America whipped toward the Russian, cheeks red with anger and eyes filled with hurt. "I never said that, you fucking Commie!" America's hands curled into fists, trying to hold back the urge to _punch._ "My people have the right to do whatever the hell they want and they're fucking _happy_. Can you say the same?"

Russia's usually fake-pleasant smile dropped as he stalked toward the American, standing nose-to-nose with the other man. Even with the murderous intent clear in Russia's eyes, America held his ground.

"One. More. Word." Russia emphasized each word with the thunk of his pipe, which he had pulled from under his coat, against his hand. "And your face shall be meeting bloody end of pipe."

Just as America's hand was twitching toward the pistol hidden in his favorite Bomber jacket and Russia was on the brink of smashing said American's head in, Scotland stepped in between the two, pushing them apart.

"Alrigh' yeh little buggers! We're supposed to be workin' together here! _Behave_!"

"I will if he will." America snarled as he shoved Scotland's hand away and continued to glare at the Russian as he backed away.

"I will try my best," Russia gave a mock bow as his face was still twisted in a sneer, "_dorogoi._"

"Shut it!" Germany snapped. "Ve need to get to vork already! Ve have wasted too much time."

"Veh, Mr. Germany's right! We need to fix the room before we can release sexual tension!"

There was a moment of awkward silence as German, Russia, and America blushed, Scotland leered and China slapped him, Japan deadpanned, Canada face-palmed, and Italy was oblivious. The moment was broken when Germany coughed into his hand and Italy was startled into gazing around at everyone in the room.

"What? What did I say?!"

"Don't worry about it, laddie." Scotland comforted while still rubbing the red hand print on his face, rakish grin showing no regret.

"Let's..." America began, a little disconcerted and embarrassed. "Let's just start working."

The group all nodded, even Russia, who was sorely tempted to make a snide comment about lazy Americans, held back and pulled out the necessary tools. The group set to work.

* * *

The feast was near to ending and England was very much tempted to mass murder everyone in the vicinity. But genocide never got anyone, anywhere. What he _could_ do, however, was take out his frustration on France, as per usual. Before the feast officially ended and all the students were preparing to head in for the night, England not so subtly kicked France from underneath the table. As France winced and leaned down to rub at his sore ankle, England reached out a supposedly comforting hand and whispered into France's ear.

"We _will_ talk when this feast is over, frog."

"Quoi?" France rose back into a proper sitting position. "What if I do not wish to?"

"I wasn't _asking_, you bloody ponce," England stood with the rest of the staff and glanced around to make sure no one was listening in, though the scrape and clatter of everyone moving helped screen his words, "I was stating a fact."

France sniffed as he dusted non-existent dirt off of his expensive robes. "You could 'ave said please."

England snorted as they walked, as inconspicuously as possible, toward an empty classroom outside the Great Hall.

"Like hell."

* * *

Finland was very much enjoying himself at the feast. His curiosity was heightened by the presence of England, but he was soon caught up in the festive, happy atmosphere surrounding him and the thought slipped his mind. Not everyone was so joyful, but the fact was overshadowed by those who where and Finland was soaking it up. He loved it when others were happy, it made him happy. He was just blissfully eating his food and smiling to anyone in the area.

Sweden was as stoic as ever but managed to crack a small hint of a smile at the happy Finn. Hadn't Finland been worried about this just on the train ride here? It was astounding how fast the Finn could change and become comfortable in a new surrounding, unlike himself. He didn't like change. Sweden was the type of man that liked to form a routine and stick to it. He liked it simple, not fast and complicated. He was nothing like sweet little Tino, who could adapt to anything and still manage to make sure everyone was happy. He sipped a bit at his drink before it was announced that the feast was at it's end. He sat the cup down and looked around at his companions, noticing that England and France had already disappeared somewhere. He probably didn't want to know where.

"Hey, Ber! Let's head on up to bed!"

"Mm." Looked like he had some bigger fish to fry in any case...

* * *

Sweden... Fish... Swedish Fish anyone? I'm such a dork. Ahhh- Anyway.

Umm... Sorry, urgh, so much stuff has been going on. I got a job. Eugh. I have clubs I'm in and I have schoolwork up the wazoo. This chapter is kind of suckish, but I really like the beginning in any case. The ending was kinda forced because I wanted to make the chapter longer... Dx And it's still short.

I had something... Aaaand it's gone.

See ya every other Sunday guys!

Do svidanya~

Gilly B.


	6. Chapter 6

... I hate fanfiction. This site... is evil. I... I was going to reply to EVERY review, because I've never done that before. I was halfway there. Now it's gone. ALL OF IT. *sigh* I'm just gonna start with the reviews on this chapter and reply in the next chapter, kay? It's late and I have school tomorrow. ):

Disclaimer: *explodes*

WARNINGS: Hints of pairings: SuFin (with drunk!Finland), FrUK, and RusAme later.

* * *

Sweden blushed heavily as Finland was leaning against him for support. He hadn't noticed the Finn was _drunk_. Actually drunk. There hadn't even been any alcohol! Unbeknownst to him, Finland had snuck in some of his favorite flavored vodka to help calm his nerves. What Finland hadn't counted on was forgetting it was alcoholic after the first few sips and downing a few cups. It had just tasted sooo good!

"Yer drunk."

"I..." Finland paused as he stumbled a bit, "I know tha, Ber."

Sweden gave him a look before sighing and continuing down the empty hallway. "How?"

"V-Vodkaaaa!" Finland giggled and flailed his arms a bit before stumbling again and nearly toppling both himself and Sweden to the ground.

Sweden help steady the Finn before deciding that Finland was unfit to walk and scooped him up on his back.

"Woah! Wass happenin'?" Finland jerked around as he was pulled into a piggy-back ride. He was suddenly taller and his drunken mind couldn't process it.

"Yeh can't walk." Sweden started walking down the hall after making sure the little Finn was secure. Finland's arms wrapped around his neck and his head came to rest on Sweden's shoulder. Sweden's arms hooked under Finland's knees to keep him steady.

"I can't?"

"No."

"Oh." Finland laid his head down and nuzzled Sweden's neck bringing a fierce blush to the taller man's cheek. Gods Tino was adorable. They walked on in comfortable silence, Sweden's boots clacking against the stone floor the only sound echoing around the halls. Finland drifted in and out of light sleep as he was rocked by Sweden's movements. He really shouldn't have drunk so much, but it could have been worse. Finland smiled sleepily, he was so lucky to have Sweden help him when intoxicated! He remembered this one time when Sweden had been out of town because of a business meeting or something his boss wanted him to do. Finland had had nothing to do and Denmark had convinced him to go out drinking. Bad idea. The only thing he could really remember was Denmark laughing and skiving off with Norway after a bit, then he had a hazy memory of fighting with a lamppost, and then he somehow woke up in a mailbox! Crazy times.

Sweden stopped in front of Finland's office door, his bedroom attached in the back. Sweden's own office and sleeping space was right next door.

"Wer' here."

Finland huffed but didn't make a move. "Berwaaaaaaaald."

"Ja?"

"Less sleep tagethther~!" Finland giggled as Sweden blushed.

"T-tino?!" Sweden turned his head to see the Finn's face.

"Buh I get sooo loney, Ber! An yer so big an cuddaly!" Finland's arms squeezed Sweden briefly.

Sweden had no words. None. Just, what the Hell was going on right now? Finland was drunk is what. Sweden sighed before nodding and turning to push open the door to his own office. He had the bigger bed after all.

"Yer so sweeeet, Sve!"

"Ja, ja." Sweden walked past his desk and opened the door to the left of it, revealing his bedroom. It was large but still cozy. His king size bed was up against one wall with a royal blue comforter and yellow sheets. Beside the bed was a nightstand with a lamp. On the opposite wall was a large wardrobe and a comfy chair beside it. On the chair was his suitcase, still open. On another wall was a small bookshelf yet to be filled with the door leading to his personal bath beside it. It felt a bit barren and impersonal, like a hotel room. But that would change soon once he settled in more.

Sweden went over to the bed and set Finland down, the Finn immediately falling back and curling up on top of the covers. Sweden smiled slightly at the sight before turning to the bathroom and got ready for bed. Finland would need the bathroom in the morning. Sweden was going to let him sleep in a little late to help with the hangover he was going to have. Classes started tomorrow and Finland was likely to rush about in the morning once the hangover faded away. After taking a shower and brushing his teeth, Sweden walked out to find Finland fast asleep still on top of the blankets.

Sweden smiled softly as he shifted the Finn to the side and lifted the blankets before carefully tucking him underneath. He then walked over to his own side and climbed into bed. Once settled he felt Finland flip over and cuddle up to him. Sweden blushed before hugging him close.

"Hyvää yötä, Ber."

"God natt, Tino."

* * *

"What the fuck are you doing here, Francis?" England turned to the Frenchman after casting his strongest privacy spell and magically locking the door.

"I thought I told you, you silly Briton! I am 'ere to 'elp you." France lounged against wall of the dimly lit classroom. It was spacious and felt empty without any desks or furniture. Just a blackboard on the far wall and bits of clutter here and there. The moon was shining through the windows, being the only light to see with. England stalked toward France angrily.

"Why?! You've never cared before! I'd think _you_ of all people would be eager for me to lose this fight. Don't you _want_ to see me crumble, frog?" Britain crossed his arms and waited for a reply. France frowned before lifting up from the wall and walking closer to England, leaning in close.

"That is not true, mon lapin. You know this." France practically purred into England's ear as he cupped the other's cheek before his hand was slapped away.

"Was I not there for you after the first of this magical war? Was I not there for you after the Blitz? Was I not there for you after your ship was raided by Spain?" England winced at the memories. It was true though. Francis _had_ been there to pick up the pieces.

"Was I not there, through the years? Does it count for nothing, cher?" England looked away at the question, refusing to answer. "I 'ave never truly wished to see you crumble, mon lapin."

England blushed before leaning back and pushing France away. "Bloody perverted frog," he grumbled. "How, exactly, do you plan to help me? There's not much you can do, idiot."

France shrugged. "Dumblydore is a crafty man, oui? I shall be, 'ow does petit Alfred phrase it? Oh yes, I shall be your 'backup'." France decided not to mention the other nations currently holed up somewhere within the castle, he'd rather not have England's head explode just yet.

"Fine," England rubbed his temples before heading towards the door. "Try not to scar the children too much, France."

"Ohonhonhon~! No promises!"

England took down the spells and jerked open the door before slamming it behind himself. "Bloody, perverted, idiotic _frog_."

France chuckled softly as he was left alone in the room. This would surely be an interesting year.

* * *

"Aiyaa! Are we done yet? This room so dirty!" China looked around the room as the group was finishing up cleaning it out. It was nearly done, even if their work had little effect on the room. The scorch marks were still clear on the walls and the room refused to be anything but a dreary shade of gray. Scotland looked around as well, putting a hand up to his chin and humming as he examined the work.

"Alrigh'! Yer done fer now!" Scotland cracked his knuckles. "Now it's my turn."

The nations looked at him with quizzical expressions before all stepping back as the Scotsman approached a wall with his arms spread wide. He grinned as he placed his hands on the wall, feeling the power thrum under him. He touched his forehead to the wall and whispered, "Wake up, love. You need to help us fix this." The room started to glow with a soft light and the energy picked up with a low hum. "I know you're hurt, love, but please try. I know you can do it." There was a high keening sound that echoed over the humming that was progressively growing louder. The light flashed blindingly bright before dying down along with the hum of energy.

The room was completely normal, there was no trace of burn marks or ash. Scotland turned with a proud smile to the gobsmacked nations.

"Dude! What the heck, man?" America was the first to speak as everyone got over their shock.

"She's a tough one, and powerful too," was Scotland's only reply as he patted the wall beside him. "Now! It's time to get down to business!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" America gave a mock salute as the nations gathered closer.

"Russia, America, and Canada are goin' ta infiltrate the ministry." Scotland pointed to each nation as he said this, waiting for the explosion.

"What?!" America shouted in protest.

"You are making joke, da? Is not funny." Russia smiled sweetly as the temperature dropped a few degrees in the room.

"Maple."

"Look," Scotland placed a hand on America's shoulder to calm him down and gave a warning look to Russia, "You two have the most powerful magic, you're also tha best at hand-ta-hand combat. We need you in tha ministry as spies to make sure Dumbledore doesn't take over tha police force."

"Fine." America grumbled before stomping toward the passage back to the dirty pub. This was sooo not cool.

Russia pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration before sticking on a plastic smile and walking after the bright blonde.

"An you," Scotland turned to the nearly invisible Canada, "Are gonna find yer way into tha Minister's position."

"Q-Quoi?! How in the maple am I going to do that?!" Canada whisper-shouted.

"You'll see!"Scotland winked before pushing the softly protesting nation out the door with the others.

"Yeh know how ta get our messages, righ? Contact us when yeh get there!"

"Yeah, yeah!"

Scotland turned back to the nations still left. China, Japan, Italy, and Germany. He clapped his hands together with a smile.

"An _we_ are gonna start an army!"

* * *

Ohh~! What are they up to? :D

It was spirit week at my school. I had so much fun. It was character day one day and I went as "Catman" whom isn't really a superhero... But I went around in cat ears and a cape shouting "I'M THE HERO!" xD I was also playing cards against my friend Starla. I was yelling things like, "You'll never win against me, dirty communist!" "Soviet Russia can't beat America!" She just gave me a drity look and continued playing cards. She beat me, btw.

ANYWAY.

Translations:

Ja (Swedish) - Yes

Hyvää yötä (Finnish) - Good night

God natt (Swedish) - Good night

Mon lapin (French) - my rabbit

Oui (French) - Yes

Petit (French) - Little

Da (Russian) - Yes

Quoi (French) - What

Gute Nacht~

Gilly B.


	7. Chapter 7

Okay~ Hey you guys! Sorry it took me so long to post this chapter. D: It was supposed to go up Sunday! But I had a big U.S. History exam and other stuffs going on, so please forgive me! ): I'm not too happy about this chapter and it's late to top it all off! Ah well.

Anyway! Review replies~

**Alaska F. Braginski**: :D We'll be getting to that real soon~

**Mon Esprit Libre**: Oh, my bad. Cher is dear. And yes, rabbit. It's very common to find France calling England his little bunny. I'm not quite sure where it started, but I think it was an episode where Iggy has a few pet rabbits? Ah well, I think it's cute~ Thank you ever so much for the compliments~

**Anni**: Yesh~ Scotland is magic didn't you know? :D CANADA FOR PRESIDENT! Lolwut?

**Akumu Lee Crimson**: Scotland _is _loveable isn't he?

**Warrior Chickenz**: Ikr? We don't do stuff like that often, but it's still pretty cool. XD

**Zantetsuken Reverse**: :D Me neither!

**The Almighty Pyro**: ~ lol :D

**Mitsukuni'sLilTwinSis:** OKAY. :)

**JackFrost14**: Thank you~!

WARNINGS: Cursing.

Disclaimers: lolnope

* * *

"Greedy little bastard."

"Cold-hearted son ova bitch."

"Self-centered, lazy, arrogant _pig_."

"Wow, _that's_ a new one. I'd call you a cunt but you lack warmth and depth."

"You act as if your stupidity is a virtue."

"Being around you is like having my soul sucked out of my body in the most painful way."

"I was not aware that you _had_ a soul, Amerika."

"You know, somewhere out there is a tree, tirelessly producing oxygen for you to breathe. I think you owe it an apology."

"It is a shame that I am unable to fix it now, but perhaps it would have been much better if you never existed."

America turned to Russia with a neutral expression. That last one had stung a little. Only a little of course. He replied with a flat tone, frustration and hurt being kept at bay. "Some people bring happiness wherever they go," he said softly, "you bring happiness _when_ you go." America quickly shuffled ahead of the group, meshing with the people stalking the streets of London.

Russia stared after him, pain rising in his chest, deep down. The insults hurt, they always hurt, but the other nation just made him so _angry_. Russia clenched his fists and squared his jaw before stomping after the stupid American, not even registering that he was leaving a floundering Canada in the dust.

"Those hosers...This will never work."

* * *

Harry sat at the edge of his bed, head clasped in his hands and elbows resting on his knees. He wanted nothing more than to sit here for the rest of eternity. He didn't want to get up and be adored by everyone he knew, he didn't want to be watched and gossiped about every minute of the day, he didn't want to walk the halls of a battleground in which hundreds had died and he was to blame. There were so many emotions warring inside him, bundling up into one giant clusterfuck of confusion and a dull throb of pain. There were so many things he didn't want to be, to do; a puppet, a savior, a hero. He was tired. He didn't want to get up. Classes would start soon.

Harry slowly lifted his head and sluggishly rose from the bed. He was already dressed in his school robes and was outwardly ready to tramp down to the Great Hall for breakfast, inwardly he was still a mess. He jumped slightly as a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"You okay, mate?"

"Yeah, Ron. I'm fine."

Ron watched as Harry listlessly turned and shuffled his way toward the door. He was concerned about Harry, the war had hit him hard and had left him reeling once it was over. He imagined his friend didn't know what to do at this point, still in mourning and without the looming threat of constant danger, there was nothing to do. Ron winced, they were _all_ still in mourning. He could only wait and let time heal as much as it could. Hopefully Harry would find his purpose again.

* * *

"This is goin' ta be our headquarters. We'll work from here and get reports from our spies on tha inside. This is also where we'll start training students."

"Aiya, haven't they been through enough battle?"

Scotland paused and gazed at China who stared back with a pleading look, sadness and reprimand mixed in his eyes.

"We aren't training 'em fer war. We're teaching 'em. They'll have to learn that Dumbledore isn't who he says he is. We're recruiting 'em. Informing 'em. M'sorry, training was tha wrong word to use."

"I see."

Scotland nodded before going back to work. China was lounging against the wall on one side of the Room, the other side was sectioned off into bedrooms for the nations to use while they stayed here. Although the Room of Requirement could grow a considerable amount, it couldn't stretch far enough for each person to have their own, they had to share. In fact, the rooms were stacked up on top of each other, when America had reported in earlier he had commented that it looked like the houses his Natives used to build in the desert. Germany and Italy were resting in their rooms and Japan had snuck off to check out the school. Scotland was still trying to fix up the Receiver on the more open side of the Room, getting it ready so he could see better when America, Russia, and Canada sent in reports.

"How does this thing work, might I ask, aru?"

"I've been waiting for you to ask tha."

China scoffed and rolled his eyes as he waited for Scotland to elaborate.

"This," Scotland pointed to a medium sized bowl of water on the floor close to the wall, "has a spell on it tah connect with the necklaces that America and Canada have. All ye have to do is sprinkle some crushed Cornflower in it and say _annecto nobis_, then there ya go."

"And what, exactly, are you trying to do with it?"

"Mmm..." Scotland mumbled before leaping up and running to the corner in which they kept the brooms. He snatched one up and hopped into the air, pulling out his wand and tapping two spots high up on the wall. He came down off the broom and tapped two more spots, creating a square, all the while muttering spell words under his breath. Lastly he pointed his wand at the bowl and a blast of yellow light was absorbed by the water.

"Tha should do it."

"Aren't you going to test it?"

"No, let's not bother tha lads. They're probably busy. Besides," Scotland wiggled his eyebrows, "don't we have better things to do?"

China smacked his hand to his forehead and left Scotland alone in the area. The Scott, however, did not fail to notice the light blush on the other's cheeks. He chuckled before following after him.

Sweden woke slowly, a feeling of contentedness still lingering from the night

* * *

before, which was still hazy in his sleep-fogged brain. There was a warm weight settled against his chest, radiating heat and moving ever so slightly. Sweden blinked rapidly but didn't make any sudden moves as his memory came back in sharper clarity. Finland was sleeping on top of him. He glanced down and saw the blurry top of platinum blonde hair and the soft features of the sleeping Finn's face. He looked so cute. Sweden blushed.

Slowly he turned and searched for his glaces on the nightstand, trying not to shift the other man too much and wake him up. His fingers finally curled around his glasses and he brought them to his face. Sweden yawned widely before carefully rolling Finland off of him as gently as he could, the Finn could use a bit more sleep. Finland, thankfully, was a heavy sleeper.

Quietly, he shuffled out of his room and into his office. Once there, he stepped closer to the wall beside his door leading to the hall and tapped it with his wand, summoning a House Elf for coffee. The stick of wood felt foreign in his hand, he didn't think he would get used to using wands and the English type of magic. It was so different from the Nordic and Teutonic Tradition which he used.

There was a loud pop and he started as the House Elf appeared and bowed before him.

"Master Berwald be wishing something?"

This was so strange. "Cups o' coffee." He raised his fingers to indicate two.

"Yes Master Berwald." The Elf bowed again and popped out.

Once Finland woke up and the cups delivered, Sweden spent most of his morning sipping coffee and watching Finland rush around, trying to get ready.

* * *

The old wizard was pacing around in his office. He needed to gain more support in order to keep his new acquaintances happy. He needed more support to keep _himself_ happy. How was he supposed to become Minister of Magic and ultimately take over the magical world if he didn't have an army and political power? This was a conundrum he couldn't quite shake, even with his new help.

"Dumbledore, have you-"

"No." Albus turned sharply to face the intruder perched on his desk with a smug smile that fell when Albus's eyes narrowed and he sent a glare. The colorful man pouted instead.

"No need to be so snippy, dear."

Dumbledore merely turned on his heel again. He didn't want to face this idiot again. It was bad enough with his airy comments and relentless whistling.

"What do you want?"

"I was bored, lovely. So I made you some treats!"

Dumbledore turned once again made a questioning sound as he didn't feel like verbally replying.

"Cupcake?"

_"Never take a cupcake from Oliver. They're to die for. Literally."_

Albus eyed the cupcake held out by the other, overly stretched smile and crazed eyes just waiting for him to accept.

"No."

"Pity."

* * *

England nervously stood in front of his first class. It had been so long since he had taught children in any capacity, not since America and Canada were still young colonies. The children, considered adults even, were a group of repeating seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins. He spotted Potter among the crowd in the back.

England cleared his throat before beginning class. "Good Morning students, my name is Professor Arthur Kirkland and today we'll be starting with learning how much you already know..."

* * *

:D So many different points of view! Hope you guys liked this chapter~ We get down to classes and actual infiltration next time! Maybe. ...

Have a lovely day!

Gilly B.


	8. Chapter 8

hurricaneclaw: Danke, danke~ I thought it was pretty good, too. And... Perhaps~ :D

Zantetsuken Reverse: Ja und Ja~!

Mitsukuni'sLilTwinSis: xD Ahaha~ Das ist mich! ALWAYS AWESOME!

Alaska F. Braginski: Yeah, I just love me some 2ps!

The-Always-Angel: *giggle* I try my hardest~!

Mon Esprit Libre: Haha~ I know the feels, bro. XD Hope it became a little less confusing after you started reading.

Akumu Lee Crimson: Chaos is good, chaos is always good~!

Annihilare: *snort* And here I thought you'd be expecting him~ And yes, Go Canada!

ATC: Yeah, I know it's a bit all over the place, but hopefully this chapter narrowed it down a bit and made it more clear. And, ahaha... I had to look up a lot of the insults online to get inspiration. I'm not the best when it comes to insulting people... xD

Sailor-MSA: Danke schon! I like my Scotchu crack and I'm glad I'm not the only one that finds it interesting. :D Doesn't Oliver do that to everybody? And, hmm, I wonder which side the 2ps are really on? How many of them are there? *grin* The question go on and on. :) You may or may not ever know the answer~ Mwahaha~!

Myrna Maeve: Mafia!Italy? That's sooo cool! Ahaha~ We'll just have to see what there doing, hmm? :D

* * *

England cleared his throat before beginning class. "Good Morning students, my name is Professor Arthur Kirkland and today we'll be starting with learning how much you already know..."

England's eyes roved over the students in his class nervously before he continued. "Would any of you like to tell me the last thing you went over?"

A hand shot immediately into the air and he had to hide a smile at the eagerness. He knew exactly whom that hand belonged to, a very intelligent muggle-born, Hermione Granger. The Granger family line had always had brilliant minds and he was glad to see the youngest at Hogwarts.

"Yes, Miss...?"

"Granger, Hermione Granger. The last thing Professor Binns covered were the Goblin Wars, sir."

"I see. And before that?"

"The Goblin Wars."

England paused and considered if the girl was playing with him. It didn't seem like the type of thing for Miss Granger to do, but had they only ever gone over the Goblin Wars? That was a pitiful amount to cover in seven years. There was so much to history itself, let alone the role magic played in every bit of it. He would know.

"Did Professor Binns ever teach _any_ of you something besides the Goblin Wars?"

A red-head near the back raised his hand. One of the Weasley clan he noticed, the youngest of the boys. England pointed to him to give permission to speak.

"I think he taught us about...sn- er... wait, never mind. That was part of Transfiguration." He blushed and shrugged in embarrassment. "I suppose he only ever talked about Goblins."

"Thank you Mr. Weasley." England sighed and rubbed his temples. He was going to have to start from bloody scratch. "Alright," he turned and flicked his wand, pulling down a white sheet over the chalk board. "We're just going to have to start at the beginning." England tapped his wand against the sheet and a faded, rotating image of the world appeared, he then twirled his wand and the lights dimmed.

"Now, can anyone tell me in _which_ area the first recordings of magic were found?"

The class was still and silent. A few took out their books and shuffled through them, looking in vain for the answer. Well, at least they were trying. England decided to save their effort and stop asking questions they didn't know the answers to. He frowned as he realized how hard it was going to be to teach them what they really needed to know in such a short amount of time.

"You'll not find it in your books," he warned the class. He placed a hand on his desk and leaned against it, forward towards the class. "You'll not find many of the things I teach you in your books. I've always found textbooks to be utter rubbish."

There were a few gasps from the Ravenclaws and Hermione at such disregard for their beloved books. England rolled his eyes before crossing his arms and challenging them. "If they weren't, then why can't any of you tell me where magic was first found?"

Ah, sweet silence. He smirked at the class before noticing a timid hand raised in the back. Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom from a long line of pure-blooded magic folk. England noticed that Neville's book had remained closed on his desk. England nodded his head in the boy's direction.

"I-Isn't it a trick question, sir?"

England's eyes lit up. This boy was smarter that he was made out to be. "Perhaps it is. Please elaborate."

"Well, me Gran always said that magic never ends or has a beginning..."

England smiled reassuringly at the boy before clapping his hands. "Precisely." He turned and waved his wand toward the revolving earth, enlarging it and spreading it out across the classroom. "Magic," he began, "is a _natural_ part of the world. It is found everywhere and within everything. Something you all should have learned in Magical Theory."

England turned back to the students and started pacing between the desks, raring himself up for discussion time. "Now before we jump into History, let's review a little culture. I want you all to try and name as many nations as you can and their major magical schools. I'll fill in where it's needed."

Hands were instantly in the air. Finally, they were getting somewhere. He pointed toward Granger first.

"Durmstrang in Bulgaria."

"Correct," said England as he walked toward the country on the map and poked the spot Durmstrang should be around with his wand, a bright light settling there when he removed it. "Weasley?"

"Beauxbatons in France."

"Correct again," England repeated the action on the map near France. _Damn bloody frog and his stupid bloody school_...

"Finnigan?"

"I had a cousin go to Salem Institute in America."

England winced before walking around the floating globe and poking a new spot. "Yes, there are four major schools across America. Can anyone name the others?"

There was silence. He took that as his cue to fill in the information. "The Appalachian School of Magick," a new light appeared. "Crowley's Institute for the True," another light. "And the Maraislieu Academy."

England swiveled away from the map and paced among the desks again, all the hands that had been raised were now lowered. That seemed to be the extent of their knowledge on other magical schools. "Any other schools you can name?" A pause. "No? Alright then, let's see how many countries you can name and we'll fill in the schools later."

England went about the room stating a magic school to each country named and placing a new light with each one. By the time class had ended, the map was surprisingly filled with little dots of light. As the students packed up, there were whisperings of amazement. They had been shocked by the sheer amount of magic that was present throughout the world.

The students began to leave and England was left shrinking the dazzling globe and resetting it to it's original blank state, ready to be used for his next class. England slumped into his chair, already exhausted for the day. It had been a _very_ long time since he had last taught and it was wearing him thin. He grunted as a small flare of pain made itself know near his heart. He gently placed his hand over the area and tried to soothe it away. _London is still trying to rebuild..._ He was startled from his thoughts by a polite cough. He looked up to find Hermione Granger fidgeting on the other side of his desk.

"Yes Miss Granger? Did you need something?"

"Ah, Professor," she paused to gather the right words, "I was wondering... If there are so many nations with magic and other magic people..." Hermione shifted uncomfortably, the notion not sitting well with her. "Why did none of them help us during the war?"

England was silent for a moment. _Because none of them bloody cared,_ he wanted to say. But that wasn't the truth. "To put it simply, they didn't know. The first war was much like a civil war and was the business of Britain alone. The second war, as you well know, was denied by the Minister at first and he refused to contact others for help." _Just like I did._ "By the time the war was in full motion, it was too late to send word."

There was silence as the girl processed what he had told her, a frown marring her face. England leaned back in his chair again. "Is that a satisfactory answer, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, Professor Kirkland. Thank you."

"Good. Now go. You'll be late for your next class."

And with that, he was left to his own thoughts. How in the hell was he supposed to keep up with teaching _and_ take down Dumbledore at the same time? He sighed and rubbed at his temples as he waiting for the next group of students to file in.

* * *

"Alfred F. Jones, at your service! This is my partner Ivan Braginsky. We're transfer Aurors from the states, here to help out where you need us."

America gave a small salute and a nervous laugh as he and Russia were studied by piercing eyes. She was a severe woman with sharp, little black eyes and bright green painted lips that were curled into a skeptical pucker.

America rubbed at the back of his head as the woman examined his very soul. God this was creepy. His eyes shifted around the tiny office they were shoved into and wanted desperately to escape the multitude of pictures and sculptures and plates of green apples. What was with this lady's obsession. Really! Cats were bad enough, but _apples_? At least cats were fluffy, cuddly, and would meow at you. Apples would just sit there, plus the green ones were sour. Just how much could one person like a certain fruit before it became unhealthy? America would guess that this lady went way past that limit.

Russia watched the other out of the corner of his eyes. America was very restless. His eyes darting around the room and grimacing at the apple portraits. He could understand the discomfort. The woman in front of them was intimidating in her own right and the sheer amount of fruit in the room was disconcerting as well. Even if the apples did not have faces, he felt as if they were staring at him. Russia shivered.

"Very well. Please report to Miss Amelia Bones to begin working. You may go now gentlemen."

America sighed in relief and dashed out of the room as quickly as was polite, dragging Russia behind him.

"I am never ever eating a green apple ever again."

"That is too bad, comrade. Fruit is healthy, da? We all know how much your diet is in lack of healthy things."

America stopped and looked back at the other. "Are you calling me fat?"

"Never, comrade!" The sarcastic smile that stretched across his face said otherwise.

"Man, you're annoying."

"And you are holding my hand."

America stopped short at the reply and looked down at their hands that were indeed intertwined. He quickly flung Russia's hand away and retreated a few steps. There was a furious blush over his face that he desperately hoped the giant wouldn't notice.

"Just come on, you stupid Commie. We need to find this Bones chick."

"Da."

America turned on his heel and walked in the direction of the lifts, his hand clenching and unclenching. His nerves were all over the place and the blush still on his face.

Russia watched the American for a beat before following after. They were then crammed into the fast moving box and sent up to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

His hand was still warm where the other had held it.

* * *

AWWWW~! RUSAME MOMENT FOR THE WIN~! *ahem* Anyway~ This totes should have been posted earlier. D: Es tut mir leid! Fo seriously! M'sorry, but I'm sursly busy lately. I've got to study up for competition for FBLA, I've got to memorize and practice my part for conference for ITS (omg our one-act is gonna be AWESOME!), and of course tons of school stuffs. Then you gotta add my sleeping problems. I'm not even going to tell you how many times I've watched August Rush in French. Yeah, don't ask.

Ahaha... Anyway. Hope you liked this chapter~!

Gilly B.


	9. Chapter 9

Hallo everybody! I really need to be better at updates, but after everything that's been happening... It's so hard! Anyway~! Review replies!

**Akumu Lee Crimson**: xD

**Mon Esprit Libre**: Ah, well I suppose this chapter won't be any better, considering how long it took me to update... *sadface*

**hurricaneclaw**: Mn, gotta luv some RusAme, right? And danke~!

**Zantetsuken Reverse**: Those and just about any other war. Wizards are unaffected by the change of time in the HP world, so wars that involve muggles wouldn't concern them since they can protect themselves easily. *shrugs

**Upsilon Forty-Two**: …. Duuuuuuude. No really, duuuude! We share a mountain range~! Gotta love my dear old Appalachia~! (xD I would imagine that you would have gotten an invite to Salem, unless you have Native blood (like me~!), and if that's the case then your application got lost in the mail (like mine ): ) Yes, yes. RusAme. :D Sexy office desk times and other shenanigans? I think, yes~!

**The Almighty Pyro**: Mmm... Yaoi. Yes.

**OBSERVER01**: Thank you~!

**YamiIcepath**: Oh~ Thank you, thank you~! Watching the enemy crumble is always a delicious scene, yes? :D Don't worry, Dumbles will get what's coming to him!

**YoungPheonix00**: Varying p.o.v.'s is my specialty~! And really, ever since I found out about the 2p!s I just couldn't resist! (They're soooo yummy) And I'm glad you gave my RusAme a chance~! It's my OTP so it might be in there a bit, aheheh...

**Roza Kirkland**: ): I'm sorry there's no Franny as of yet, in this chapter. But it's funny cause his class is actually planned as the very beginning of the next chapter~

**Annihilare**: … Reasons. Well... The "Trials" happened before Alfie broke away from the Empire so Artie would have felt the impact of the trials to his wizarding community, however small, and it also reminds him of the times before Alfie's rebellion. Which would be kinda harsh on him considering it was also the beginning of his fall as an Empire, and it just makes for a sad Arthur. And for some reason, sad Arthurs flinch. Anyway! We don't go to Appalachia because out invites got lost in the mail. Obviously. No, the lady was some random character that I found funny. (Hufflepuffs are particularly good finders!)

**psychotic luv**: That's what I've been saying! I mean really... It makes sense.

**Myrna Maeve**: YES. :D

**Lia Alcona**: *blushes* I try~!

**Reta McClain**: *giggle* Thank you~ I save my true crack for other stories, though some of it still leaks through~! *sigh* Yes, I know. I'm aware of the fact that Miss Bones was killed in the books previously, but I was too tired to search for another character I could use to fill that spot. It makes my terribly upset to not be correct on something like that, but it's too late now. I suppose we can just pretend she's a secret twin with the same name, yes?

**UK12**: Why thank you! I'm always AWESOME~! HAHAHAHA~!

**BlackRoseGirl666**: I tried! D:

**E. S. Beckett **: Wirklich? Bitte schön! Ich werde versuchen~ :D

WARNINGS: Lots and lots of cursing in the last bit. No really. LOTS.

Disclaimer: Eh.

* * *

Canada was in a most unfortunate position. Scotland had yet to contact him and inform him what in the hell he was doing here, and so he was lost. Canada, also known as Matthew Williams, was standing in the middle of a bustling Ministry and had absolutely no idea what to do.

He was sitting, rather nervously and with nothing better to do, on a small little bench that was lined up with others along a wall in the huge atrium that served as the center of the busy bee-hive that was the British Ministry. He watched in distracted fascination as a team of workers went about removing crumbled bits of statue and commenced working on a new one. _I wonder if there's been an accident or something. I'll have to ask around, eh?_ Canada sighed and contemplated calling Scotland himself. After reaching several times for the communication necklace and chickening out, he slumped in defeat and yet again set about waiting for the other to contact him first.

"Mr. Johanssen!" a young voice called out. The loudness of it caused Canada to jump and turn about, looking for the source, even if it wasn't his own name that was called.

"Mr. Johanssen! I've been looking for you, sir!" the voice called again, this time Canada was able to connect it to a young man with flaming red hair and a pair of spectacles and was looking directly at him as he made his way to the unsuspecting nation.

"Mr. Johanssen," the man had a tight, business-like smile as he approached the confused nation. "My name is Percy Weasley and I'll be your new assistant as we go through you inauguration and also the remainder of your term."

Percy held his hand out and Canada grasped it out of polite reflex, he was still baffled at being confused for someone else. He was about to correct the other when something struck him.

"Wait... In-Inauguration?"

Percy beamed and nodded. "Yes, Mr. Johanssen. I have the pleasure of informing you that you have been chosen to be the next Minister of Magic!"

Canada could only stand there and stare, not quite sure what to do. Obviously this poor Weasley fellow has mistaken him for someone else. But what should he do about it? And what about this Minister of Magic business? He was just about to open his mouth and correct the other, when Percy bustled him along and coerced him up to a private elevator in which he was brought to a lavish office and set down behind an ornate desk, all the while being told what his new duties were and what to expect. Really, things went so fast and he had no idea how to fix this, it sent Canada's head spinning. He could only hope that this Mr. Johanssen didn't show up anytime soon and wouldn't be terribly upset about his job...

* * *

Sweden was as stoic as ever as he watched the little Finn fidget nervously. The students were filing in and Finland was probably anxious as Hel as he always was when it came to situations like this. Sweden clapped a hand on the other's shoulder in reassurance and gave a twitch of the lips in response to the grateful smile Tino directed toward him. Finland turned back to watch the last of the students took their seats, eighth year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. What an awful combination.

"Huomenta!" Tino covered up his nerves with a smile and addressed the class. "As you were told as the feast, my name is Tino Väinämöinen and I'm your new DADA professor! You can all call me Mister Tino if you can't pronounce my name." Finland then gestured to the man behind him. "My companion here is Berwald Oxenstierna and he's my co-professor, we'll both be teaching you this year!"

Sweden pushed his glasses further up his nose, causing a glare to reflect from the light in an intimidating gleam. "C'll m' Mist'r Ox."

The students said nothing as they watched the larger man in slight fear. He was really, really, scary. The other one, not so much. The Slytherins were already planning up sneaky ways to get on the man's good side, and sneering at how such a powerful man could stand the little wimp that was his partner. The Hufflepuffs were just bloody grateful they weren't dead yet.

"Joo, let's get right to it! This is going to be a no-nonsense class, we're going to jump right in, okay?" Finland clapped his hands together to gather the class's attention before pulling out his wand. A nice, simple stick of holly infused with mistletoe leaves and a special Jötunn fur core. "Now everybody up and out of your seats! And please move to the left side of the room!" As the students began following his orders, Finland turned to Sweden and asked, "Ber, would you be a dear and bring out the target practice dummies?"

Sweden nodded before disappearing into a back room, supposedly to retrieve the dummies. One of the Hufflepuffs was brave enough to raise their hand and Finland called out for them to speak.

"Um, Mister Tino, sir... Why is Mister Ox getting practice dummies?"

"Excellent question, little one! Let me explain..." Finland trailed off a bit as he also started flicking his wand to lift the desks and move them out of the way, "You see, any spell you learn, no matter how powerful or how well you can do it, will be useless to you if can't hit your target. This is seriously important if you ever have to fight, which is what I'm supposed to be readying you for. So," the Finn turned as Sweden re-entered with the dummies, placing them throughout the room and even casting some with his own wand (smoothed pine wood with a Jötunn heart-string core) to move about, "I'm assuming everyone knows how to cast a simple stunning spell?"

Finland grinned as all of his new students nodded. "Wonderful! Now, before we start... I have to explain the rules."

"Rules?" one of the Slytherins in the back drawled with curiosity.

"Yes! This is going to turn into a fun little game. Berwald here is going to keep score and make sure everyone is playing fair. The objective of the game is to hit as many targets as you can before class ends. You are _not_ allowed to hit fellow students and anything but a stunning spell is prohibited. If you break those rules, you'll be taken out of the game. Oh," Finland flashed a not-so-innocent smile to his class, "I'll be playing too. The person with the highest score, or if someone manages to beat me, will get bonus points on your final at the end of term."

There were a few snickers from the Slytherins as they expected it would be easy to beat the smaller professor. What they didn't expect was the man's secretly devious nature and his precise sharp-shooter skills. They didn't stand a chance...

There was a dark chuckle before Finland shouted, "Wands at the ready! On your mark! Get set! GO!"

Although every single one of them had been beaten miserably, and they were completely tired out by the end of class, not a single one of them could say their aim hadn't improved and that they didn't have a new respect for their smaller-sized professor. Which was partially fueled by their new-found fear of him.

All of them, even the Slytherins, left the class with smiles that day. Perhaps these new teachers had potential after all...

* * *

"Scottie," America sighed to the Nation at the other end of the scrying necklace, "this is boring." He had been sitting in his new little office that he, unfortunately, shared with Russia and had been yet to be given an assignment. From his Ministry job, or his spy job. And frankly, he was getting restless. Really! He was just stuck in the same cramped space as a psycho Russian! It's a wonder something hasn't been broken yet. _Yet_.

The man chuckled at the blonde's impatience. "Too bad. At least ya aren't in the same boat as li'l Mattie."

America quickly sat up from his lounging position in his chair. "Whaddya mean? What's Mattie doin?"

"Ah cast a spell on 'im. He's tha new Minister and he don't even know it."

"Pff- That's mean Scottie!" America chuckled at his brother's misfortune before pushing off on his wheely chair and spinning around. Hmm, this was fun! He decided to spin a bit more before he heard a harsh bark from around his neck. "Oi! Stop yer spinnin! Yer makin me dizzy."

"Then give me something to do!" America immediately replied, starting to spin even faster.

"Da, _please_. Anything to make him stop with the talking!" Russia pleaded from his desk across the room, where he had been reading one of his favorite novels, trying desperately to ignore the American brat.

"I ca-"

Scotland was suddenly cut off as the door to their office opened and America promptly snapped the communicator shut.

"Jones! Braginski! I've got a mission for you both!"

"Yes!" America fist pumped the air and excitedly lept from his chair, rushing after his new superior that was going to brief them of their mission. Some fun at last! He was totes gonna be the hero!

"Finally," Russia sighed as he gently closed his book and followed after the exuberant blonde man. It was almost endearing how cute the other could be when excited. Like a puppy... With lots, and lots of sugar. "This will be a very long journey, I know of it."

* * *

Fritz sighed as he lounged about in melancholy and shifted his position on the lumpy couch in the dirty little hotel room they were staying in. Why was he here? No one would answer his questions. Not that they ever really did anyway, but still! He didn't want to be here. He didn't particularly want to be anywhere. Why did they leave him alone in here? Not that he really minded. Where were they? Not that he cared at all. Why was he even _alive_? He wouldn't mind dying, really.

This room smelled funny. Like shit, sex, and sweat. The drapes were ugly and the bed was really, really uncomfortable. The fucking couch was better. Fritz turned over, facing the stupid room he was confined to. The walls were some shitty color of tan and the carpet was a darker tan. That was it; the bed, a worn out end table, a couch, and a nasty bathroom that he dared not even enter. His eyes narrowed onto the floral patterned, plastic covered drapes that were common in cheap hotels. Why was it that, even though they blocked out the light of the sun itself, but they were defenseless against the small sliver of light that always managed to shine in your face? There couldn't be just an inch more of fabric?!

There was a click as the door opened with a loud, rusty squeak of the hinges. Fritz rolled his head languidly in that direction and watched with dull, opalescent eyes as one of his companions finally re-entered the room he had been dumped in.

"Louis!" Fritz whined to the other, dragging out his name in a way that he knew would grate on the other's nerves. "Why won't you ever answer my questions?"

"Because you're a little bitch and I don't want to deal with your shit. So, shut up." Louis stalked across the room and flung open the drapes, letting sunshine fill the dark and gloomy room. He growled as the light reflected across his red-tinted sunglasses. "I hate this fucking country. Goddamn Oliver and his stupid ass cupcakes."

"Wait... We're in England?" Fritz tumbled around on the couch until he was in a somewhat sitting position.

"You didn't figure that out sooner, dumbfuck?" Louis didn't even bother to turn and face the other, bur simply pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and place one between his lips.

"Noooooooo!"He pulled out the syllables in a low moan of complaint. He then lept off the couch as he noticed Louis pull out the pack, and eagerly skittered over to the other with a lighter in hand. "I'm just your lowly little bitch, I can't do anything for myself."

"Hmph." Louis grunted as the other flicked open the lighter and lit his smoke. He flashed a sadistic grin at his 'little bitch's' words. "Damn right you can't. You're fucking lucky you have such a tight ass."

"Hmm. I'm just full of luck. A master that's so gracious as to take care of me; worthless filth. And, to top it all off, you've got such a huge di-"

"'ELLO POPPETS!"

Fritz whined loudly at the interruption, he was so bored! He wanted a good, sexy, spanking! Louis merely grunted in annoyance, he was about to tap that lovely ass and punish his naughty slave. This is why he fucking hated England. Both of them.

"I could help but overhear~" Oliver pranced into the room, throwing sickeningly good cheer around him.

"Then why the fuck did you come in?" Fritz muttered.

"So," Oliver continued as if he hadn't heard the other, "I decided to clear up some of your confusion!"

"Okaaaaaay," Fritz drawled sullenly before flopping back onto the couch in resignation. "How about, what the fuck we're doing here. We're in the other dimension aren't we?"

"Why yes we are, love." Oliver walked over and patted Fritz on the head, much to his annoyance. "And as to why we're here... To stir up some trouble, of course!"

"You don't make _any_ fucking sense." Fritz whined.

"When does he ever?"

"Oh, hush up. The both of you." Oliver danced back over to the door, deciding he didn't want to bother the two anymore. He had better things to do, after all (mainly that handsome, dour Frenchman that was sulking in their room).

"Oh!" Oliver turned back before he left. "Would you like any cupcakes?"

"NO!"

* * *

Alrighty! That's all for now folks! M'kay...

Huomenta! - Morning!

Joo – Okay

Hmm, I may or may not be inclined to tell you that I have a sweet little back story that involves Sweden and Finland's wand cores. Oh! A Jötunn is a type of really really big giant in Norse Mythology~! Just sayin.

Mm, so I really have no idea how one is created the new Minister of Magic, so I went with something familiar. Would inauguration be incorrect in this instance? I have no clue. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.

And one more note!

Fritz – 2p!Prussia (lol He's sooo emo)

Louis – 2p!Canada (Mmm, sexy.)

Oliver – 2p!England :)

And I think that's all folks! And since it's coming up, Fröhliche Weihnachten! (Merry Christmas!)

Peace out,

Gilly B.


End file.
